


Pavlove

by sidnihoudini



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Murder Husbands, POV Outsider, Sharing a Bed, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:51:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 13,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5071615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidnihoudini/pseuds/sidnihoudini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I procrastinate writing my larger stories by asking for tumblr prompts! If you'd like to submit one, come and <a href="http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/ask">hit me up on tumblr</a>; I write anything Hannibal related.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. cooking with hannibal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [A prompt: Hannibal and Will cooking together on the run?](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/131855575864/a-prompt-hannibal-and-will-cooking-together-on)

“Darling, hand me the lighter,” Hannibal requests, extending one arm in Will’s direction.

Will, still not at all used to the plethora of pet names Hannibal loves to roll out, fumbles the lighter out of his jeans pocket and almost drops it in their makeshift fire pit as he hands it over.

“I think I got all the bones out,” He replies, for lack of anything else to add. He nods down at the striped bass he caught in the river just before the sun dropped down beneath the horizon.

He gutted it with a pocketknife over a rock, and managed to remove most of the scales and bones. They lucked out finding a little pocket in the woods that had clearly been previously used by guerrilla campers. They’ve got a metal grill, rock pit, and logs to sit on. They won’t stay long, but it’s more than they could have asked for for the night.

“I don’t mind the extra flavor,” Hannibal murmurs, rubbing the fish down with a herb blend he made from plants in the surrounding area.

Will doesn’t know anything about what’s safe to eat and what isn’t, but he trusts Hannibal does. Though Hannibal did love the potential psychedelic side effects of some, it wasn’t the type of party trick he’d pull out in the middle of an escape.

“That smells really good,” Will whispers, watching as Hannibal grills the fish over the fire. He’s so hungry. They caught and skinned a rabbit for breakfast but that was hardly anything shared between two men.

When Hannibal doesn’t want to be found, Will has come to realize, he goes deep.

“Here we are,” Hannibal announces, splitting the fish down the middle and leaving it to cool on either side of the grill. Will notices the piece Hannibal has pushed to his side is slightly larger. He feels his chest warm as he looks across the still crackling fire at Hannibal.

He feels fond; that’s not a word he’s ever used to describe his feelings towards another person before.

“Thank you,” Will says. They don’t have utensils, so the food will need to cool entirely until he’s able to pick it apart with his fingers.

Hannibal smiles at him and reaches across the small space that separates their bodies. He curls a hand against the back of Will’s neck, fingers pressing against his nape possessively.

He doesn’t say anything, but Will smiles anyway, laughing despite the blood, filth and dirt they are both covered in.


	2. what a match i’m half doomed; you’re semi sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Another prompt: Hannibal and Will cuddling and/or bed sharing for warmth. ;)](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/131864725444/another-prompt-hannibal-and-will-cuddling-andor)

“This is a bad idea,” Will says, sitting at the edge of the bed.

He’s no stranger to roughing it; his father sent him to boy scouts for a year when he didn’t know what else to do with him, and he spent a small portion of his early twenties couch surfing through two separate summers. He’s camped, he’s eaten less than savory meals, and he’s had the heat turned off in the middle of winter.

This, however, is an entirely different beast.

The windows are frosted on both sides. That should have been the first bad sign, Will muses, as his teeth chatter a little bit. He blows into his hands to warm them up. Hannibal is trying to get the front door of the shanty cabin to shut properly, but despite his best efforts there’s still a gap of a few inches around the entire frame.

It’s winter, on the east coast. A few inches can be the difference between making it through the night and not.

“We will leave as soon as the sun is up,” Hannibal announces, forgoing his battle with the door. He leans a few damp pieces of cardboard against it - a very basic, makeshift type of insulation - and looks around the small space for anything else they can use. He glances at Will and adds, “We just have to make it through the night.”

That is the plan every evening, after all.

Will has tried his best to insulate the windows, too, but it barely made a difference. There are gaps in the logs that the shack is built with; in summer it would be too hot, and now, it is very much past the point of being too cold.

“Easier said than done,” Will replies, voice soft. His breath is a white cloud of air that dissipates around his chin.

Hannibal fusses around for another ten minutes, waging a war that they will not win, before he finally climbs into the bed that Will has been shivering on for the last five minutes. The mattress is damp and cold all the way through; they laid down a plastic sheet and then a few towels they brought with them. Even though it doesn’t help the temperature, at least they will not absorb the mattresses’ damp.

“We need to get down to our skin,” Hannibal sighs, beginning to unbutton his coat. It’s cheap, bought quickly from a department store; for a moment, Will has never missed Hannibal’s old wardrobe more. Full of thick, heavy, expensive jackets that would keep them warm through the coldest winter.

Frowning, Will begins to remove his own jacket. He’s heard about using body heat to conserve energy - he actually watched a porno that started out that way once - but he didn’t think it actually worked.

Hannibal lays down first, shivering against the cold air as he waits for Will to remove his undershirt. They both leave their pants, socks and shoes on - it’s necessary, in case a quick getaway is needed - and for a minute, Will is so cold he’s pretty sure his nipples could cut diamonds.

He says as much to Hannibal, and gets a cold sounding, chattery laugh in return.

Once Will has laid down next to Hannibal, half on top of him, they arrange their jackets over their bodies, and then pull the thick fleece blanket earlier found in a cupboard up over that.

“I am thinking of warm sand and blue oceans,” Hannibal murmurs into the top of Will’s head, rubbing the palm of his hand up and down Will’s upper arm vigorously.

Will’s lips are trembling from the cold and he makes a little noise of amusement, before he presses his nose against the curve of Hannibal’s armpit.

“You have a better imagination than I do,” Will finally replies, wrapping one arm over Hannibal’s midsection and digging his fingers between Hannibal’s flank and the mattress. “Make sure you take me with you, I can’t get there on my own.”

Sighing, Hannibal presses his mouth against the top of Will’s head, and replies, “My dear you are already in the chair beside me. You have your toes in the sand.”


	3. lambkin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Hannibal and Will celebrating either one of their birthdays together. Xx](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/131907491659/hannibal-and-will-celebrating-either-one-of-their)

“Happy birthday,” Will whispers, a little flustered as he sets a small wrapped present on the table in front of Hannibal.

He’s never been good with birthdays, or any genre of celebration really - he couldn’t even do Christmas right, and that was a bush league holiday. In the year they’ve been together, Hannibal has patiently handed out candy to trick or treaters, hung cheap candy canes on the Christmas tree, and poured champagne over local New Years Eve fireworks.

Now, it’s Will’s turn to celebrate Hannibal.

Hannibal looks up at Will curiously, surprised by the gift, but still comfortable enough to revel beneath Will’s unwavering affection.

“You did not have to,” Hannibal murmurs, but picks the gift up anyways, tugging at the little ribbon carefully.

Will didn’t wrap it himself. It would have been glaringly clear if he had: too much scotch tape, a little gap between the two edges where the wrapping paper met. Maybe a rip or two, patched hastily the further down the rabbit hole Will fell.

Hannibal seems to know this, and smiles at Will carefully. Somehow the visual of Will standing in front of a customer service desk somewhere, fidgety and awkward about explaining how he’d like the gift wrapped, is enough for Hannibal.

Inside the gift box is a gold ring.

“I know you don’t wear jewelry,” Will blurts, before Hannibal has even had a chance to fully process the gift. Will ends up on his knees beside Hannibal’s chair, holding the bottom of the gift box as Hannibal touches the top. “But I, I saw it and I wanted you to have it. I knew it was for me to give to you.”

It’s simple, by no means a wedding band. Expensive, but tastefully so, beautifully crafted but not gauche. 

Hannibal sets it in the palm of his hand to watch as the lights above them reflect from the metal shine.

“Thank you, my darling,” Hannibal finally says, voice soft, quiet. He reaches for Will with his free hand, and pulls him forward by the back of the neck.

Will goes, no resistance in his bones as he almost falls against Hannibal’s side.

“Happy birthday,” He says again, body still full of nerves, even as Hannibal presses his mouth to Will’s temple, nose sinking into his hair.


	4. high by the beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Yet another prompt: omg fever fic. Of the hurt/comfort variety.](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/131911337749/yet-another-prompt-omg-fever-fic-of-the)

Will vaguely remembers the last time he was this sick.

Twenty five, right out of college, living on a diet of ramen and coffee. Working sixty hour work weeks, barely sleeping - if he remembers correctly, he also took up the habit of smoking for a short period of time in there, somewhere, too. It helped repress his appetite, and gave him something to look forward to.

Until it all came crashing down around him with a hundred and two degree fever, vomit everywhere, and the inability to get out of bed. Flu, the bad kind, not the kinda fun “I’m gonna take a lot of pills and lay in bed watching movies” type.

That’s the closest that he’s ever come to feeling the way he does right now. Somehow this might be worse, though. There’s something that comes along with getting older that just makes everything hurt more.

He has no idea how Hannibal is dealing with this.

Will spills orange juice all over himself and the kitchen floor, and then almost knocks over a potted plant while trying to rip off a piece of paper towel. He throws the paper towel to the ground and lets the juice clean itself up while he takes the two semi-filled glasses and begins shuffling back in the direction of the bedroom.

His heart is thumping in his chest, his head is as heavy as rocks but simultaneously ready to float off his head, and if he thinks about anything too hard, he’ll start coughing until he gags.

Hannibal is sitting in the middle of their bed, looking miserable. He’s less of a complainer than Will is - Will likes to vent about shit, especially to Hannibal, it makes him feel better and usually Hannibal fixes it - but even now Will can see Hannibal is one sneeze away from giving in.

His face is that particular palor that comes along with sweating for hours on end, hair stuck to his forehead and nose red from wiping it with kleenex.

Will hands him one of the two glasses of orange juice, and then sits down on the edge of the bed to drink his. They both gulp back as much as they can, gasping in-between because when you’re this sick, even drinking fluids is a challenge. Hannibal doles out their medication and then rubs Will’s back with one hand until he tires himself.

It takes a little bit of finessing, but Will manages to get their half empty glasses onto the bedside table, and the lower half of his body beneath the blankets.

Hannibal is sticky, and clings to Will as soon as he’s within reach. Will closes his eyes against the swoop of nausea that cascades over him after going from a standing up to sitting down to laying position in such a short amount of time. He feels Hannibal’s hand brush over his forehead, and then curve around the back of his head. He presses Will’s face against his chest and lets out a deep breath.

“The medication should kick in within half an hour,” Hannibal murmurs. Will can feel it against his ear more than he can really hear Hannibal’s individual words.

He blinks, seeing nothing, feeling only Hannibal’s chest hair against his temple and cheekbone.

“Are you trying to get me stoned?” Will asks, voice crackling with sickness as he slides his palm back and forth over Hannibal’s hot stomach. Luckily they’ve only been struck with a viral infection, and not anything more sinister. “You know I want to fuck when I’m high.”

That gets a laugh out of Hannibal, which quickly turns into a cough, and then choking. His entire body lifts away from the mattress as he tries to regain his breath.

Will tilts his head back and looks at Hannibal from below his jawline.

“Sorry,” He whispers, even though he really isn’t. He likes it when Hannibal laughs, no matter the circumstances.

Hannibal doesn’t reply, just spreads one hand over Will’s face, so his palm is against Will’s mouth and his fingers are rested over Will’s eyes. It’s the way Hannibal tells him to shut the fuck up without being rude.

Smiling, Will presses further into Hannibal’s side and closes his eyes. The drugs are kicking in, and drowsily, he fades off into sleep.


	5. monsters in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For axmxz: [someone please document the travails of Will the hickeyed, sore, over-kissed, over-snuggled, perpetually moist from being mouthed by his amorous husband, and unable to go anywhere without said husband wrapping himself around his waist and nuzzling him, in full view of the good lord and all the flustered boardwalk patrons of the cafe they are sitting in, for christ’s sakes hannibal you’re fifty years old, comport yourself with dignity and PUT ME DOWN GODDAMMIT](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/131922031574/will-the-newlywed)

“Stop,” Will hisses, but his eyes are trained on the cashier behind the counter. 

She’s been very polite, talented in ignoring the blush that has slowly spread across Will’s face. It began in the apples of his cheeks, and now, the further Hannibal’s hands disappear up the back of his shirt, has begun to redden his jawline, throat, and neck.

Hannibal is particularly talented in evoking reactions from him, whether Will is in control of them or not. 

“I am doing nothing,” Hannibal replies, tone even. The hand underneath Will’s shirt, on Will’s bare flank, says otherwise. He reaches past Will, and sets enough money for their deli order on the counter. 

The cashier smiles demurely at them and points over her shoulder, to where a pick-up counter waits with a few other patrons lingering around it.

“Your food and coffee will be along shortly,” She smiles, looking at Will first, and then Hannibal’s face over Will’s shoulder. 

Hannibal presses a kiss to the nape of Will’s neck and then turns, leading him by the hand towards the pick-up counter. The woman standing there closest to them was openly watching them in line, and now smiles at them both as they come to stand beside her.

“Sorry,” Will smiles back, apologizing for their combined presence as Hannibal resumes touching Will’s body, hands now on his stomach as he smells the crown of Will’s head, and then the warm spot behind his ear. 

She seems positively entertained by their dynamic, gaze flickering between Hannibal’s fingers and Will’s half grimace. Honestly Will enjoys being handled by Hannibal like this - he kind of gets off on it, if he’s being totally truthful - but he’s never been really into public affection. Hannibal, on the other hand…

“What will I do with you,” Hannibal murmurs into the shell of his ear, smoothing Will’s hair back with his other hand. 

Will feels buoyant on Hannibal’s love for him. For a moment it makes him feel invincible, and he doesn’t think before he replies. 

“Anything you want,” He replies, words soft, just for Hannibal. 

Will is pretty sure the growl he gets in return is heard by everyone - even the pastry chef in the back.


	6. the near and the dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Anonymous: For Hannigram prompt, Hannibal truth spell fic? Although I wonder how effective truth spell would be to Hannibal who prefers half-truths to outright lying. ](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/134147765169/for-hannigram-prompt-hannibal-truth-spell-fic)

“What did you take?” Will asks, a confused expression on his face as he stands over Hannibal, collapsed in his arm chair.

A slow, slightly unhinged grin slides its way across Hannibal’s face as he tips his head back and stares up at Will. His eyes are unfocused, pupils large and round and pitch black.

“My darling Bedelia has second to none taste,” Hannibal murmurs, head rolling back against the armchair cushion as he looks up at Will. “In fashion, home... pharmaceuticals...”

Will frowns and moves around the chair to stand between Hannibal’s knees. It’s a familiar position, but it’s new to see Hannibal wasted like this. He looks positively fluffy; skin warmed, hair pushed to one side. Will holds Hannibal by the chin and tilts his head back to study the flush on his cheeks and the easy arch of his brow.

“I didn’t realize this is how you vacation,” Will murmurs, arching an eyebrow in the direction of Hannibal’s needle kit on the side table. “I’ve never seen you... indisposed.”

Two heavy hands come up to rest on Will’s hips. Hannibal’s fingers curl into the jean, and he rests his thumbs on the bare skin right above the waistband.

“My dear,” He murmurs, eyes closing. Will leans his weight back onto his heels, and looks down at Hannibal, amused. He brushes his fingers through Hannibal’s hair and waits for his eyes to open again. They do, slowly, hazily, before he grins up at Will once more before adding, “You mean the world to me.”

Laughing, Will leans back into Hannibal’s space, watching the way Hannibal still tracks him even through the blur of the drugs.

“Oh yeah?” He asks, expression amused as he settles on the foot stool just out of Hannibal’s reach. Hannibal reaches for him again, but can’t quite peel himself away from the length of the arm chair.

Hannibal doesn’t seem to mind. He simply relaxes into the cushions and stares at Will instead. Will leans a bit to the side, and watches as Hannibal’s gaze follows him despite the liquidity in the rest of his body.

“If anyone takes you away from me,” He announces, words heavy, not yet slurred but close to it. “I would kill them.”

Will stands up again, and lets one hand graze over Hannibal’s knee as he makes his way back to where he was pouring himself a drink before Hannibal distracted him. As he goes, he presses a kiss to Hannibal’s cheekbone.

“I wouldn’t let them,” Will replies easily, hand brushing over the curve of Hannibal’s shoulder as he moves to cross the room. “I would have to be dead for that to happen.”

That really offends Hannibal. He makes a noise of disgust and tightens both hands into fists. Will adds a little bit of the egg nog Hannibal made earlier to his rum; December means he can drink all day without repercussion.

“They would be dead on the floor before they ever laid a hand on you,” Hannibal says, so sure of himself that Will doesn’t hesitate to believe him.

Smiling, Will brings the drink to his lips, and sips.


	7. it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [howishughdancyevenpossible: Hannigram prompt (please & thank you!!! <333 ): Hannibal and Will meet when they both reach for the same bottle of wine at the store. They go through the 'no you should have it, no no YOU" awkward shuffling until Hannibal offers to share it with Will ;))) ](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/134150440239/hannigram-prompt-please-thank-you-333)

The only thing Will despises more than shopping is shopping at Christmas.

It’s horrifying, and it isn’t just because of the crowds. He awkwardly dodges women dressed in tight black clothes spraying perfume, and tries not to make eye contact with the green spandex elf helming the cash register under a sign that reads Pictures with Santa.

He doesn’t even know why he’s here; he only has three people to buy gifts for, and the only reason he’s doing that is because they already gave him boxes of nuts and bottles of wine. Stupid Christmas, he thinks methodically, pushing his way through the doors of the liquor store.

For some reason buying his usual six pack at the gas station didn’t seem appropriate to give as Christmas gifts to his co-workers. It’s the only reason he’s here, in a legitimate beer and spirits store. He comes up with a plan as he makes his way towards the bourbon aisle; something familiar. 

He’ll just buy three bottles of the same semi-nice wine, and then leave a bottle each on Jack, Katz and Alana’s desks. Their expectations are likely already lowered, so he won’t need to worry about gift cards or wrapping.

Will debates buying himself a bottle of bourbon for a minute, before making his way over to the wine section. No more fucking around, he thinks. In and out was the game plan. Each wine aisle is split into the country the wine comes from; Will has no idea who produces the best wine, so he heads into the first one he sees, and looks for a tag that says “Manager’s Pick” or “Popular!”

He reaches for the first bottle of wine he sees wrapped in a semi fancy label.

“Sorry,” He blurts, the second he realizes he’s also holding onto someones fingers. Long fingers, his brain helpfully supplies, that are sandwiched between Will’s hand and the cool glass of the wine bottle.

Will pulls his hand away and awkwardly turns to face the other person. So much for in and out.

“I apologize, I must admit I am so close to the end of my Christmas shopping list I have begun to operate with tunnel vision,” The guy says, looking genuinely apologetic as he lets go of the bottle, too.

For a second Will has a flash of all the Black Friday videos he watched a few weeks ago on YouTube. Someone got their hair ripped out over a toaster, and here he is, standing in an aisle with some dude apologizing to him for touching the same object at the same time. Will looks down at the little roll cart at the man’s feet, and realizes it’s full of different things: booze, tall boy beers, and other bottles of wine.

“Ah, I have many friends and acquaintances that are both professors and teachers aids. They admit there is nothing better than being inebriated during the holidays,” He says, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he regards Will’s awkward stance and silence. He reaches for the bottle and pulls it down from the shelf before handing it to Will. “I must insist.”

Will finally reels back to life. He shakes his head and takes a half step back, “Oh I have no idea what I’m doing. I chose that bottle for no reason; you should take it, you know what you want.”

“I would be remiss, it looks like this is the last bottle in stock,” The man says, pointing at Will’s hands with the cork. “I have other favorites. Please, it is a beautiful year.”

Without meaning to, Will feels his face flush as he finally reaches forward to accept the bottle from the man.

“Thanks,” He says awkwardly, pulsing a smile as he turns to look at the shelves instead of watching the man’s face. He is studying Will intently, brows slightly knit together in concentration. “Umm, would you - do you, do you have any others? That you like? I need to buy two more - for gifts.”

A real smile spreads its way across the man’s face, as he lets go of his cart handle and reaches his hand out for Will to shake.

“Hannibal Lecter,” He says quietly, as another shopper pushes by behind them. “I would be pleased to, on one condition.”

Will arches an eyebrow and shifts the bottle around, from the crook of one elbow to the other. He asks, “What’s that?”

“We will find three more bottles for your friends, but you will share that particular wine with me,” Hannibal replies.

Laughing despite himself, Will nods without thinking, and looks to the rest of the aisle laid out before them.

“I think I can agree to that,” He says, watching as Hannibal smiles back at him, clearly pleased with himself.


	8. date night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Anonymous: Hey, can I leave you a prompt? Freddie writes a fic based on the Murder Husbands and people turn it into a movie. Jack and Alana are like "Why on God's green Earth do people want to see this shit" but well, the movie comes out nonetheless. Will and Hannibal go to watch the movie. (For the director's sake I hope that movie would be aesthetically wonderful.) ](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/134152886764/hey-can-i-leave-you-a-prompt-freddie-writes-a)

Alana thanks the bartender for her glass of champagne, and holds her gown up with one gloved hand as she makes her way back to Jack and Margot.

“This is fancier than anyone deserves,” She says, sounding more sour than she’d intended, as she comes to stand beside Margot. Margot looks openly entertained by all of this, a little tipsy and dressed from head to toe in velvet as she stands in the dim light of the theater.

Behind them, two life-sized cardboard cut-outs of Hannibal and Will’s characters are set out for anyone who would like to take a photograph with the movie’s leading men.

Jack has been working on the same glass of wine for going on two hours. He nods, a frown on his face, and looks towards the exit one more time.

“Something is going to happen tonight,” He says quietly, shaking his head. Behind them, Freddie Lounds walks in to the sound of people shouting her name and the flash of photographs. “This is exactly what they would love; Hannibal has been given his own celebration. He won’t let that pass him by.”

Frowning into her glass, Alana takes a sip of champagne and turns to watch the media circus as it rolls in.

*

Hannibal stands on the curb with one hand braced over the top frame of the limo door.

“Darling, we’ll be late,” He says patiently, looking away from the interior of the car to study the marquee set up outside of the theater instead. There in gold flashing lights and big, black letters, it says: MURDER HUSBANDS WORLD PREMIERE, and then in smaller letters, ‘Featuring Freddie Lounds.’ “There are many people to see tonight.”

As Will gets out of the limo, admittedly a little bit drunk, he laughs and holds onto Hannibal’s arm as the limo pulls forward into a waiting area. The driver cuts the engine; he will patiently wait for their return. Will has become used to many creature comforts over the years.

“Do you think they’ll be surprised to see us?” Will asks, catching their reflection in one of the glass panes that decorate the movie posters adorned to the front of the theater building.

He and Hannibal are both dressed in expensive suits, Hannibal’s pitch black and Will’s a very deep, dark navy blue. Together, they look like a fresh bruise ready to be pressed. Will reaches for Hannibal’s hand, and twines their fingers together as they begin to walk towards the huge theater doors.

“My love, they will not see us at all if we do our job correctly,” Hannibal murmurs, stopping to press a kiss to the side of Will’s neck.


	9. the best and the merriest you ever did have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [xenagogy: Hello! Here is a prompt: Hannigram Christmas baby. Interpret it as you'd like. I cannot wait to see what you come up with! ](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/134154372959/hello-here-is-a-prompt-hannigram-christmas-baby)

“Hannibal, he hates it,” Will says, laughing despite himself as their son gives Hannibal a particularly sour expression before pulling the furry hat off of his head again.

Ever patient, Hannibal picks the hat up off of the floor and sets it back on Luca’s head. The eight month old makes a noise of discontent and reaches for the hat again, tiny fingers winding into the material before he jerks it forward and throws it to the ground.

Luca is already proving to be just as patient as Hannibal, if not more so. Will waits for the day they inevitably out-patient each other.

“We will try again later,” Hannibal says, giving in.

They’re all sitting on the rug in the living room; Hannibal has been trying to get a picture of Luca under the tree for going on twenty minutes. Luca has systematically declined each and every prop Hannibal has tried to entertain him with: Christmas socks, a scarf, the hat. Hannibal had been considering using a candy cane as a bribe.

On the other hand, Will has never seen Hannibal so readily adapt to Christmas cheer until their son entered the picture. It seemed to happen when Hannibal realized he could dress Luca up in tiny childish things with each new holiday that passed.

“Ahh!” Luca exclaims, one arm reaching out in the direction of one of their dogs as it saunters through from the kitchen. Will laughs and calls Hambone over from the direction he had been heading.

Obviously Hambone was one of the dogs that Will had been allowed to name. The dog score currently sat at six, with three names each for Will and Hannibal. Will had also agreed to hold off on any further strays until Luca was old enough to walk.

Hannibal doesn’t know that their agreement includes a clause that allows Will to rescue any dog that is hurt or bleeding.

“Say hello to Mr. Hambone, Luca,” Hannibal says, which sounds patently ridiculous. He holds the baby up on his toes, and Will laughs as Hambone comes up and snuffles over the baby’s face. 

In a moment of inspiration, Will wraps the scarf Hannibal was trying to get around Luca over the dog’s neck instead. He’s a boston terrier, and the runt of the litter at that, so it looks vaguely ridiculous hanging over the dog’s muscled shoulders.

Hambone doesn’t seem to care, but Luca starts cracking up immediately, laughing and reaching for the dog as Hannibal continues to hold him up. It takes a bit of maneuvering, but Will gets Hambone to sit in front of the Christmas tree, and then motions for Hannibal to prop the baby up beside the dog.

“Quick, take your picture,” Will whispers, leaning forward to set the hat on Luca’s head.

Taking a step back, Hannibal smiles as he takes a photo of the baby and the dog, leaning against one another beneath the tree.

“Perhaps our pack does have more uses besides less than average home security,” Hannibal says, smiling again when Will laughs at the admission.


	10. Kūčios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [inkscripture: Prompt!: Hannibal finds Will reading in his personal library and is trying to ask him out on a date- but Will it to entranced by the book he is reading and doesn't pay attention. Hannibal settles with light touching to get Will's attention. ](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/134155832909/prompt-hannibal-finds-will-reading-in-his)

For some reason Will has always been intrigued with holiday traditions around the world.

He was terrified of Krampus when he first discovered the entity as a curious eleven year old, and intrigued by Juul Nisse and their love of milk. Now, he carefully moves to the next page of the book he stumbled upon in Hannibal’s library detailing a traditional Lithuanian Christmas.

It’s as elaborate as the Christmases that Will dreamed about as a child. 

Although his dad had never really been one for celebrating holidays, Will accepted his beer tin wreathes and shoddily wrapped presents with childish fascination and glee. He secretly dreamed of tall tree wrapped in garlands and tinsel, meals that covered imaginary dining room tables, and sleeping beneath a lit tree in a warm living room.

Now, thirty years later, he finds himself lost in Hannibal’s book that describes days of preparation and a meal made of twelve dishes. He finds himself daydreaming about Hannibal’s sitting and dining rooms, mentally dressing them in the same decorations he dreamed of as a child while celebrating the same traditions he assumes Hannibal grew up with.

Will startles when he feels Hannibal’s fingers gently curve around the inside of his elbow. When he looks up from the book, Hannibal is smiling at him warmly. For some reason, Will sees sadness there, too.

“In Lithuania, Christmas Eve was more important than Christmas itself,” Hannibal says quietly. He brings his free hand up to rest on Will’s cheek. “If you will have me, I would like to make a traditional meal for you this year.”

A feeling of warmth begins to spread from Will’s stomach, up into his chest and out into his arms. He feels drugged for one long, almost delirious moment, where he finds himself staring into Hannibal’s face and falling deeply.

“Hannibal,” Will whispers, because simply agreeing sounds too easy.

He lets the book close gently, and sinks into Hannibal’s presence instead.


	11. patatino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [So I absolutely adore your Luca-verse, so how about a teenage Luca arguing with either parent about something so trivial, that only The Murder Family would argue about and the other parent trying to diffuse the situation. Can be serious or crack lol. I'm easy to please Xoxo](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/134174423699/from-zahz-on-ao3-tried-to-send-you-a-prompt-but)

“We aren’t going to Florence this time,” Will says, and admittedly his tone does come across sharper than he’d meant it to. He bends over Hannibal’s desk and shuffles through his top drawer looking for a pen. “You know papa and I have business.”

Luca frowns and drops down into one of the two deep navy blue arm chairs that sit facing Hannibal’s desk. The FBI was happy to take away Hannibal’s psychiatry license, so he no longer practices. Instead he consults directly with the investigation team; nobody knows how to pick apart a case like he and Will.

“But I want to!” Luca argues, elbows balanced on his knees, with his cheeks held in each hand. Will gives him a stern look over Hannibal’s desk; they’ve been arguing over this for going on three days now. “Papa said we would visit the Medici Chapel this year.”

Finding a pen that isn’t one of Hannibal’s ancient tools filled with expensive ink, Will closes the drawer and starts to copy their flight numbers over from his iPhone to Hannibal’s paper itinerary.

“And we will, just not this time,” Will promises, sitting down in Hannibal’s executive chair. He has bad enough handwriting, and the severe angle that comes along with standing up helped no one. “It’s no longer up for debate.”

As if on cue, Hannibal enters the office with his tablet still brightly lit in one hand. He seems vaguely surprised to see both Will and Luca hanging all over his things.

“Papa, can we please go to Florence?” Luca begs, fully on the road to whining as he gives Hannibal his puppy eyes and frowns. “Just one day. We will already be in Nice!”

Frowning, Hannibal heads towards his desk first, and sets his iPad down as he comes to stand beside Will. He watches Will diligently copying their flight numbers from screen to paper for a moment, and then brushes his fingers through Will’s hair.

“What is in Florence, patatino?” Hannibal murmurs, accepting the completed travel itinerary that Will hands to him.

Even though Luca is about to answer, Will replies, “The Medici Chapel. He truly is your son.”

“We will go this year, Luca,” Hannibal promises, though he can’t help being a little bit pleased at his son’s request. Even though they have been to Florence before - many times - Luca had never been old enough to truly appreciate Hannibal’s favorite places. The few times they’d been since Luca had grown, they had been in and out of the city too quickly to linger. “I’m afraid it will be impossible this time.”

Luca frowns, crossing both arms over his chest as he slumps back in Hannibal’s chair, defeated.

“Do not pout,” Hannibal warns, without looking away from the paper he’s studiously reading from top to bottom. It’s much easier to have a paper copy of their itinerary than to depend on flaky cellphone and WiFi networks. “You will have some hours to yourself while we are in France.”

That lifts Luca’s spirits a bit, though not by much.

“What do you even do over there,” He grumbles, picking at his fingernails without looking up.

Will snorts under his breath and opens Hannibal’s drawer to put his pen away.

“Just boring business stuff,” He lies. Beside him, Hannibal hums a slight disapproval, but Will won’t do this. He won’t tell Luca the truth until he is old enough to make his own decisions. In the meantime he’s happy to have the resources to show Luca the things he didn’t have a chance to see as a child.


	12. fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Prompt: s2!Will (after getting out of the jail) interacting with post 3x13!Hannibal? I'm curious how Will at that point would react if Hannibal acted with even less chill than he was accustomed.](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/135006309999/prompt-s2will-after-getting-out-of-the-jail)

Will’s stomach hurts a little at the idea of spending a thousand dollars on a coat, but he hands his credit card over anyways and taps his fingers against the counter as the shop girl rings his purchase through.

"Special date?" She asks, smiling a little as she removes the anti-security device from inside the sleeve.

Thinking about Hannibal, and the way he'll react to seeing Will outside of his flannel and prison onesie for the first time in months, Will smirks.

"Something like that," He murmurs, sliding his credit card back into the slim pocket of his wallet.

~

It's a surprise to see Hannibal looking so calm.

For some reason Will had been expecting a certain rigidity to Hannibal's shoulders, a pulled curl to his lips. The Hannibal he gets is one he has never seen before; collected, relaxed, almost warm in his reception.

If Will didn't know any better, he'd say he's been thrown into an alternate universe; one where Hannibal radiates comfort and good humor. It's practically the mirror image of the man he left behind, the one who only ever allowed his emotion to simmer below the surface for fear of saying anything at all.

"Hannibal," Will breathes. The words come out softer than he'd intended them to.

Hannibal smiles at him, no teeth, just a short, sharp pulse of the lips, and replies, "My darling."

Something catches deep in Will's chest, and he visibly recoils at the response. This isn't the Hannibal he knows at all.

"You're... different," Will says, keeping his words careful and weighed on the flattest part of his tongue. "You're happy."

Smirking again, Hannibal shrugs, and looks at Will fondly.

He says, teasingly, "I am a man in love."

Will's stomach bottoms out, and he feels himself swallowing against the sudden dryness of his throat.

"You... you?" Will asks, closing his eyes with a grimace as he thinks about Hannibal with someone else. Alana, maybe, or someone new.

Hannibal nods, openly pleased with himself, as he moves to his desk and the bottle of wine that sits upon it.

"I am entirely entrenched in the way I feel," Hannibal continues, uncorking the bottle. He raises his eyebrows in Will's direction, and adds, "I did not realize it showed so clearly on my face."

Swallowing, Will nods and takes a step towards Hannibal's chair, fingers moving to pick at the fine stitching that holds the upholstery together.

"It is... obscene," He agrees, voice clipped.

Hannibal just watches him quietly, face full of warmth at what Will doesn't yet understand.


	13. kill them with kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Freddie writing about Murder Husbands, please? Or it could be just Freddie's opinion about Hannibal before she began to suspect that he is a killer.](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/135241283034/freddie-writing-about-murder-husbands-please-or)

"Thank you so much for being here in studio today, Freddie," The talk show host says, offering up a warm, semi-sincere smile.

Freddie studies her short blonde bob, and the way her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. It's quite telling. She offers up a smile in return - without teeth, sweet - and laces her fingers together over one knee.

Behind her, on the studio screens, is a life-sized picture of her book, aptly titled Freddie Lounds. It's a beautiful cover photo, really, black and white, her face turned just to the side, eyes downcast. The audience can practically feel the delicacy of her very existence radiating from the screen.

One day, Freddie hopes to release a book simply using the name "Freddie" - like Cher, or Madonna. A one name empire.

"I'm happy to be here," Freddie replies demurely, eyes glinting in the overhead studio lights. "Thank you so much for having me."

The talk show host - Patricia, a local Baltimore fixture - reaches for the copy of the book that sits on the small table between their chairs. She holds it up for the audience despite the fact it's already displayed on the screen behind them, and taps the cover.

"We're here to talk about your new book - it's a sequel to the first one you released two years ago, right?" Patricia asks, angling the book cover away from the glare of the studio cover lights so the camera can focus on the photograph.

The audience sits quietly, raptured.

"Yes, exactly," Freddie smiles, inclining her head. "My first book, Tattle Crime, was simply an anthology of the articles I previously wrote and published on my blog of the same name. It was a journalistic approach to the Chesapeake Ripper; this book is different. It's my personal story, and details how close I unknowingly got to two cannibals."

Surprised - and clearly expecting some other type of memoir - the host sets the book back down on the table, and asks, "There are two cannibals out there? I remember Hannibal the Cannibal. I didn't know there was a second! That's terrifying! That's scary!"

"It is," Freddie nods, as the audience murmurs their agreement. She inclines her head again, studying Patricia like a crime scene reporter or victim, before adding, "Of course the most horrifying aspect of these crimes, in my opinion, was the mutual obsession the two had for one another."

Patricia has obviously not done her homework. She arches an eyebrow, and asks, "So who are these two, exactly?"

"Hannibal Lecter, better known as Hannibal the Cannibal, and Will Graham. Will Graham was, at one time, an investigator for the FBI," Freddie answers sweetly. She imagines Jack watching the show, his eyes bugging out of his head.

Surprised, the host exclaims, "That's scary! That is scary."

"Horrific," Freddie agrees easily. "Over the course of my investigation, I got to know Will Graham very well. And, Patricia, you know - I have to admit. It wasn't a surprise to me, when things turned out the way they did. I personally suspected him for a very long time, which I go into further detail in my book."

Patricia makes a small noise of interest, and asks, "What can you tell us about the relationship these two had with one another? Two cannibals! I can't believe it."

"Their relationship was, and is, very intense," Freddie nods, remembering the last time she had seen Will and Hannibal in the flesh. A year after their escape off the cliff, they were spotted in the same area as the hospital that Alana gave birth to her second child in. Freddie was the one who saw them. "It is deeply unsettling, and largely based in their obsession for one another. They have - and will continue to - kill the few things that come between them."

The talk show host laughs all of a sudden, and exclaims, "I'd like a boyfriend like that! Can someone get me a boyfriend like that?"

"Only if you like to play with knives," Freddie replies, smiling a little despite herself.

The book only has a small portion of what she knows about Hannibal and Will. She's saving the truly raunchy stuff for the third book deal, which should be coming along any day now. She salivates at the idea of Hannibal and Will stumbling across her book in a book store or airport one day, and realizing the sheer amount of information she has on them, currently.

She won't sell them out, she thinks, looking at the vacant look on Patricia's face.

It's a mutually beneficial relationship. As long as they continue to hold up their end of the bargain, Freddie will continue to hold up hers.


	14. love me love me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Will puts on a a show eating ice cream](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/135243018919/will-puts-on-a-a-show-eating-ice-cream)

The worst part of it all, of course, is that they’re out in public.

“You are horrible to me,” Hannibal murmurs, expression tight as his gaze flickers over Will’s face once more - from his half closed eyes, down to his mouth open and wet, and then back up again.

Will makes a low hum of agreement, and sucks at the drippy side of his cone.

It’s hot outside - hot enough to easily melt the ice cream in his hand.  They’re in Greece for the first time together, which has inspired Will to wear small beach shorts and very little else.  He likes the way Hannibal’s eyes bug out of his head every time he sees Will emerge from the bathroom or changing room in them.

For someone with such stone cold resolve, Hannibal truly is easy to break once you know where to apply pressure.

“This is really good, Hannibal,” Will teases, tilting his head to the side so he can lick a melting trickle of ice cream from the side of the cone, before it hits the soft inside of his fingers and turns sticky. “Taste it.”

Not waiting for a response, Will extends one arm and pushes his thumb between Hannibal’s lips.  There’s a drop of melted ice cream on the pad of his thumb, hardly sufficient enough to really get a taste, but perfect for Will’s intended purpose anyways.

Hannibal’s eyes darken as Will slides his finger between Hannibal’s teeth, pressing at his tongue.

“It’s espresso,” Will adds unnecessarily, moving his thumb back out of Hannibal’s mouth, and resting it against his bottom lip instead.  He applies pressure, and then leans in, holding the ice cream cone to the side to press his mouth over his thumb.

As he pulls away, Hannibal murmurs, “I find I am craving something different right now.”

“Oh yeah?” Will grins, licking again at the cone.  As he swallows another mouthful, he asks, “And what’s that?”

Hannibal takes a step forward, resting both his hands on Will’s hips, over the tiny European swim shorts, and murmurs, “I believe you know.”


	15. battalions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Oh my gosh. 12K please? (I'm just really curious what you'll come up with.)](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/135243144179/oh-my-gosh-12k-please-im-just-really-curious)
> 
> Regency AU / Under Stress Confession

The cell is small, even by prison standards, and dirty. In the far corner sits the skeleton of a man who was sentenced to life years ago; forgotten by those around him, and truly left to spend the rest of eternity in this dark, damp hell.

Hannibal truly does not have much time left like this. Soon he fears that he will reach the same fate as the fallen man beside him, reduced to simply bones and dust on the stone floor.

But he will not break. He will not talk, he will not eat. He will be resolute.

It’s the least he can do for his sister, though circumstances have made sticking to such goals difficult.

“Please eat,” Will begs him quietly, on the other side of the bars. He is dressed in his finest wares, and has clearly snuck out of a social event where he would not be missed for a few minutes at least. He looks positively radiant, dressed in dark blue and gold. Hannibal wonders for a moment if he truly has died and gone to heaven. “Won’t you do this for me?”

Hannibal watches Will staring at him, and feels his resolve beginning to crumble and fray, the same way a cliff might begin to break apart should one stand too close to the edge.

“Hannibal, I swear to you that I will get you out of here,” Will continues, voice hushed, the fingers of one hand wrapping around the thick iron cell bars. “But you must be alive when I come for you!”

The fear in his voice betrays the harsh tone that he chooses to use. Hannibal licks his dry lips and shakes his head, settling further back against the wall.

He loves Will, truly. But he will not give his father the privilege of thinking he is right in sentencing Hannibal in this way. The man was sick with power, a sycophant, obsessed with removing Hannibal from the castle after discovering him in bed with his son.

The fact that he’s chosen to prosecute Hannibal on suspect of using witchcraft and participating in cannibalism is truly not lost on Hannibal. His sister has already taken the brunt of the accusation, and Hannibal knows he will proudly burn on the stake if that’s what it comes to.

“There you are!” A voice booms, and Hannibal finds himself grimacing, inwardly steeling himself against the sudden presence of Will’s father.

Will makes a soft sound of discontent through the bars before turning to face the man himself, flanked by two castle guards dressed from head to toe in the family’s colors.

“You knew I would be here,” Will replies boldly, pressing himself back against the cell bars. “I will not leave until you release him. This is madness.”

Will’s father moves across the prison room. Even from the back wall of his cell, Hannibal can see the way his eyes angrily reflect in the torch lights. He closes his eyes and leans back against the stone, letting himself fall away. His favorite memory is of Will’s bed, weeks before they were found.

They had laid amongst the sheets, truly happy, and Hannibal found himself never wanting more.

When he pulls himself from the memory, it’s to the sound of someone slamming up against the cell bars. Hannibal quickly realizes one of the guards has picked Will up by the front of his jacket, and shoved him up against the iron cell.

Hannibal is up on his feet before he even realizes what’s happening.

“Ah,” Will’s father laughs. “So that’s what it takes to get him to move.”

Suddenly filled with anger – something new, different from the malaise and depression he has felt daily, for the three weeks he has been down here – Hannibal steps towards the cell bars, and wraps his fingers around them.

“Do not touch him,” Hannibal says. His voice is rough from lack of use, but he does not waver. “I will not ask you again.”

The guard laughs and shakes Will again, shoving him against the bars easily despite the fact that Will is fighting back, grabbing at the guard’s hands around his shoulders and kicking to try and drop his weight.

“Oh, and he speaks,” Will’s father cackles, obviously pleased with this turn of events. Will is thrown to the ground roughly, only to be treated like a royal when it isn’t his father on the other end of the interaction. “Will you now confess to the crimes you have committed?”

Hannibal bites out, “I will never,” and moves within his cell, crouching down beside where Will is crumpled on the floor, body loose but turned in Hannibal’s direction.

“Suit yourself,” Will’s father commands, before kicking a boot against Will’s side. Will starts to cough, the wind effectively knocked out of him.

Obviously he will go to no ends to get Hannibal to talk.

The three of them leave, abandoning Will on the ground, and leaving Hannibal to another day’s peace before further interrogation.

“Please don’t leave,” Will murmurs, reaching one hand through the bars.

Hannibal touches his hand on the other side of the bars, and blinks.

“I would never,” He promises.


	16. i'm on my knees right now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Yay, prompts! I think I've seen this prompt in tumblr somewhere but here it is, canon au+pretend relationship with a twist. Hannibal makes a false identity after 3x13 introducing Will as his half brother. Will is confused cuz he thought Hannibal would go straight for pretend relationship.](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/135243300269/yay-prompts-i-think-ive-seen-this-prompt-in)

When Will first sees their new passports, he thinks: _ah, married._

The comfort that Will finds in the idea comes as a bit of a shock. He realizes for the first time that he enjoys the idea of people knowing he and Hannibal are connected in this way: that every time they think of Will, Hannibal will be right beside him in their minds.

Entangled, entwined. Will can think of nothing better than knowing he has Hannibal in this fashion, forever.

This is why it truly comes as a shock when Hannibal introduces Will as, “My dear brother, Liam.”

Will felt himself buzzing soft and sweet through the beginning, pleased to be referred to as _my dear_ by Hannibal in company. When the word “brother” tumbles from Hannibal’s mouth, Will feels the surprise hit him as though it is a physical punch.

He manages to get through the remainder of the conversation and night without incident, though it is difficult to manage his need to touch Hannibal in a whole cacophony of ways that are not appropriate between blood relations. He finds himself smiling warmly, watching Hannibal’s mouth as he talks; at dinner he reaches for Hannibal’s elbow; late in the night, he pulls his hand away just before making contact with Hannibal’s warm flank.

The fact that Hannibal looks unreasonably perfect in his suit does nothing to quell Will’s spiraling need.

By the time they get back to their hotel that night, Will is practically vibrating with pent up energy and lingering confusion.

“I’m not your brother,” He says, stupidly, the second the door is closed behind them.

Hannibal turns around, one hand already on his tie, and replies, “I am aware. Were you surprised by my introduction earlier this evening?”

“Yes, I was!” Will snaps, walking over to the mini-bar first. He couldn’t get as drunk as he wanted in fear for doing something stupid, like biting the back of Hannibal’s neck in passing or trying to hold his hand. “You know what I thought when you gave me that passport. Don’t pretend like you don’t.”

To his credit, Hannibal does only look mildly surprised as he realizes what Will is talking about, and replies, “Your assumption was marriage, not blood relation.”

“Why would I ever want to act like your brother?” Will blurts, continuing down his path of not quite saying the right thing to effectively get his point across. Somehow, by some grace of god, Hannibal has begun to anticipate Will’s off-handed responses. “People are going to think we’re in some kind of incestuous relationship. Don’t do that again.”

Hannibal’s lips purse, like he’s entertained.

“I didn’t realize you felt so strongly,” He finally says, ever the diplomat. “I apologize, I will refrain from any kind of familial introduction in the future.”

Pouring an entire travel sized bottle of vodka into a glass, Will frowns, and replies, “You don’t have to apologize, I just. I just…”

“I understand,” Hannibal intones, voice warm and comforting as he comes up behind Will and wraps his arms around Will’s middle. “No need to explain further.”

Will throws the entire two gulps of vodka back, and bites out, “I’d rather be married to you than anything else.”

“Now that is quite the confession,” Hannibal murmurs gently, kissing at the curve of Will’s ear.

Will thinks: you have no idea.


	17. cupid's chokehold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [First Christmas together.](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/135817633859/first-christmas-together)

Will is still a little weak in the knees by the time Christmas rolls around.

“This seems like a bad idea,” He manages, as Hannibal helps him click his boot into the ski. Will rests one hand on top of Hannibal’s head for balance, and adds, “I’m not really athletic anyways.”

The wound on his chest is mostly healed - like, it’s pretty much healed - but it still pinches on the inside when he moves too fast or picks up things heavier than ten pounds. Skiing down the side of a mountain doesn’t seem like the best idea he’s ever had.

Though it certainly isn’t the worst.

“You will be fine,” Hannibal promises, taking a step backwards. He begins to work his hand back into his glove, and reaches for his own skis, leaned up against the side of the building. “I will be with you the whole time.”

Will shifts his weight, testing the limitations of his balance, and frowns.

“Your presence isn’t going to make me any better at this,” He says, grimacing when his weight shifts and he almost slides backwards. 

Hannibal gracefully clips both of his ski boots into his own skis, and comes to stand in the snow beside Will.

“I don’t think it will make you worse, either,” Hannibal teases, straightening out Will’s jacket. “Follow me. I won’t leave you behind.”

Sighing, Will pushes himself along behind Hannibal, and admits, “That’s not the part I was worried about.”

*

All things considered, he doesn’t do terribly.

He still isn’t naturally talented when it comes to things like coordinating his feet and carrying his own body weight, but he’s at least improved since being a teenager pre-disposed to taking soccer balls to the face.

Hannibal is patient with him, taking it slow even though it’s pretty obvious he was practically born on skis.

After a few hours they retire back to Hannibal’s cabin, the third piece of owned property Will has been introduced to in their tour across the US, and Will breathes a sigh of relief the moment he loosens his ski boots and slides his feet out.

“That was fun but let’s never do that again,” Will sighs, leaning back into the beefy, overstuffed leather chair. 

Hannibal smiles at him, watching as Will peels off his socks and flexes his bare toes. Will would never admit it, but he’s done more with Hannibal than he ever did in his own thirty some-odd years of existence.

“You prefer warm climates,” Hannibal agrees, leaning over the back of the chair Will is sitting in. He rests his palms on Will’s shoulders and leans down to murmur, “Perhaps next year we will be on an island.”

Turning to grin, Will bites at the curve of Hannibal’s hand a little, and then looks up to say, “It doesn’t matter where we are, Hannibal. Merry Christmas.”


	18. no silver or no gold, could dress me up so good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Let's talk about those very tight bathing shorts that Will likes to wear in Greece.](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/135826270999/lets-talk-about-those-very-tight-bathing-shorts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [LET US](http://i.imgur.com/zEtmPvF.png)

For the most part, Hannibal leaves Will to his boat shoes and undershirts.

Will knows what looks good. Like any burgeoning teenage boy who found himself interested in both women and men, he spent a fair amount of his youth flipping through the pages of the Sears catalog. Despite the majority of his interest being spent on the lingerie and men’s swimwear sections, he’d also come to appreciate a Good Look, as styled by pages 40 thru 53.

Up until the day he got shot in the force, he’d kinda been into the idea of keeping himself well styled and groomed. That bullet had changed a lot of things - it set Will’s life on a completely different path. His sartorial choices had just been one small crack on the larger piece of glass that was his life.

Hannibal, of course, doesn’t yet know any of this.

“I’m just going to change,” Will says, half bent over and digging around in his luggage.

Across the room Hannibal is already dressed in a pair of tailored white shorts and a t-shirt. He nods, clearly more concerned with setting the correct local time on his watch, and turns away, angling slightly more towards the tall floor to ceiling window panes.

Will grins and snags the shorts, hurrying into the bathroom and closing the door before Hannibal has a chance to see him.

*

Hannibal is outside by the time Will re-emerges, body bare other than his pink shorts and the pair of Hannibal’s sunglasses he snags off of the coffee table.

He makes his way towards the patio doors, where Hannibal is waiting for him outside on the golden sand.

“Will, would you prefer - ” Hannibal starts, though his words fail him the moment he turns around and sees Will.

Biting back a grin, Will fixes a concerned expression on his face, and raises his eyebrows to ask, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Hannibal replies too quickly, his eyes snapping up from where they’d been stuck around Will’s stomach. Will feels his muscles tighten under the close inspection. “Just fine."

Will doesn’t believe that for a second, especially with the way that Hannibal’s hand reaches out, as though it’s acting by itself outside of Hannibal’s control. If Will knew Hannibal would be so affected by the sight of bare skin he would have taken control of their relationship years ago.

“What were you going to ask me?” He teases, stepping into Hannibal’s reach.

Distracted, Hannibal slides his palm down Will’s stomach, and over the waistband of the shorts. His fingers are trailing up along Will’s recently tanned rib cage when he finally responds, “It no longer matters.”

“You’re making my decisions for me now?” Will asks, wrapping his fingers around Hannibal’s. Hannibal’s expression jerks with surprise when Will begins to push Hannibal’s hand down, sliding the waistband of the shorts along with it.

Hannibal’s gaze darkens as he replies, “If I made a decision, you would break it.”

“Yes, I would,” Will nods, swallowing back a wide grin as he takes another step closer to Hannibal and presses their bodies together, letting Hannibal’s hand slide over his hip and towards the small of his back. “Just to see your reaction.”

Hannibal’s throat works tightly, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and stares at Will’s expression, absorbing the truth he finds there.


	19. luca lecter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Hi! I don't know if you're taking prompts at the moment - but I would LOVE anything from the Luca 'verse. (I'm not saying I want to read Hannibal being a helicopter parent, but...)](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/136159827934/hi-i-dont-know-if-youre-taking-prompts-at-the)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m always accepting prompts! Send as many as you like :)

“Hannibal, we aren’t going to be those parents,” Will snaps, packing Luca’s lunchbox with a little more force than necessary. “My dad wasn’t all over me all the time, and I turned out just fine.”

The look Hannibal gives him comes across as ‘that’s debatable,’ but he doesn’t say anything to the same effect. Instead he switches Luca from one side of his body to the other, lanky toddler legs hanging over either side of his hip.

“I do not think that walking him to his classroom every morning classifies me as one of ‘those’ parents,” Hannibal replies, trying to take the high road. He doesn’t say anything about Luca’s first day of preschool last year that had Will hovering around awkwardly outside of the door.

Will gives him a blank stare in return, and then says, “It does when you get a chair and sit beside him at his desk, Hannibal.”

“I simply wanted to get the full experience,” Hannibal lies, hoisting Luca further up his hip.

Luca pats Hannibal’s shoulder a few times, and adds, “Papa wanted to see my crayons.”

“I know, buddy,” Will replies automatically, frowning as he crams another little compartment of veggies into the bento box Hannibal bought on the internet for $200.

Smiling now, Hannibal turns to face Luca, and bounces him a few times, before confirming, “Many colors for many crayons.”

“I’ll drop him off today,” Will decides, finally getting the lunchbox closed. He sees the way Hannibal cringes when he forces the little clip lock. For $200 it should pack and close itself. “You have work this morning, anyways.”

Hannibal nods, still eyeing the lunchbox as Will picks it up and jams it into Luca’s knapsack.

“If you prefer,” He nods, kissing the side of Luca’s head.

*

An hour later Will is standing awkwardly in the hallway outside of Luca’s kindergarten classroom, desperately trying to not peek through the glass window at the top of the door.

Are you stuck in traffic? Hannibal texts him, approximately fifteen minutes after Will is supposed to be home.

Will frowns at the screen of his iPhone and tucks it back into his pocket.

If Hannibal knows he’s right about this, he'll be dragging chairs into Luca’s highschool classrooms, too.


	20. bespoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Since you have some kidfic going how about toddler Luca pukes on Hannibal while he is in one of his extremely expensive suits? Maybe Will is sure he is going to freak out, but whether or not he does is up to you.](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/136161123394/since-you-have-some-kidfic-going-how-about-toddler)

“I’m just going to pick him up one more time,” Will lies, crossing their bedroom floor before Hannibal even has the chance to reply.

At the door, Hannibal stands in his tux for the night, custom bespoke, something he hasn’t worn in years. He’s mostly worn it at Will’s request; he has much newer things that haven’t yet seen the outside of their closet.

“We will be late for our reservation,” Hannibal says, even as he follows Will across the suite. Beside their bed sits the crib, wholly unremarkable yet holding one of the most important parts of Hannibal’s life.

Will picks the baby up and rests him against his shoulder, looking at Hannibal with a gooey expression on his face as he puts a bit of a bounce in his step. The baby has brought out all kinds of emotions in Will that Hannibal has never seen before, not even with the dogs.

“Okay,” Will nods, resting the side of his head against the baby’s. 

Despite their pending reservation, and their arrival now edging closer to this side of ‘late’ than ‘on time,’ Hannibal finds himself reaching out and smoothing one palm over the baby’s warm back. Luca gurgles against the curve of Will’s shoulder, chubby face smooshed against the expensive fabric of his suit, and stretches one arm out to nothing.

“Maybe I will do the same,” Hannibal finally relents, beginning to pull the baby off of Will’s chest. Their driver for the night, currently idling in a town car at the curb outside, honks once. Hannibal ignores it and sets the baby to his chest in the same way Will had.

Will steps close to Hannibal and watches the baby’s face for a moment, chest warming at the site of such a little tiny thing rested against Hannibal’s broad shoulder.

He touches Hannibal’s back after a few minutes of content staring, and admits softly, “Okay, now we really are going to be late.”

As Hannibal is moving to set the baby back down in his crib, there’s a bubbly noise and then the distinct sound of liquid ejecting itself.

“Uh,” Will says stupidly, watching as the baby formula begins to drip down the back of Hannibal’s suit jacket. For some reason even with the baby the image does not compute.

Hannibal, however, simply holds the baby in one hand, and wipes the remaining drool and formula off of the baby’s bottom lip with the other.

“Just a small accident,” Hannibal murmurs, as the baby makes a soft sound. He glances over at Will, still standing in shock, and adds, “It won’t take very long to fix.”


	21. don't need your money to get me what i want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Here's a Hannigram prompt, lovely: Post-s3 (bc I'm a sucker for that OKAY). Hannibal spoils the heck out of Will - and Will loves it. ... Maybe a bit too much? ](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/136171955784/heres-a-hannigram-prompt-lovely-post-s3-bc-im)

Will doesn’t realize it’s a thing until it’s too late.

Growing up as a teenager on the internet - right on the precipice of dial-up modem porn and downloading thirty second clips through late 90s file sharing programs - Will has always had a pretty good idea of what he likes.

Brunettes. Biting. Anal. Girls smaller than him. Guys bigger than him. A little bit of exhibitionism, in the right circumstance. Gagging, if he’s the one with the cock in his mouth. A tried and true list that has never failed to get him off; some of its items private, others shared with the few people he’s been in relationships with.

Hannibal figures him out quickly. The first time they have sex, five of the seven items on his list are checked off - and he could argue Hannibal is a brunette in the right lighting for a solid six. When he comes, it’s brutal, and Hannibal fucks him right through it.

It takes Will an embarrassingly long time to realize that Hannibal’s propensity to spoil him gets a strong reaction, primarily in the form of interest from his dick. To be fair, it takes a few weeks for Hannibal to realize it, too.

“Hannibal,” Will snaps, coming to stand in the doorway of Hannibal’s study. They’re in France this month, in one of Hannibal’s many pieces of property that now have Will’s name on the deed. Will shakes the piece of paper in his hand and asks, “What the hell is this?”

The whole thing is formality, at this point. It will end up with Will spread across Hannibal’s desk with one hand knotted in Hannibal’s hair - they both know this, but the steps they take between here and there are equally important.

Hannibal looks up from his book with interest, and says, “You will need to be more specific, I’m afraid.”

“You can’t buy me an entire chalet just because I said I wanted to go skiing,” Will replies, sounding far more snappish than how he truly feels inside. “This is insanity. You’ve actually lost your mind.”

Amused, Hannibal closes his book, using his finger as a page mark, and replies, “It will please you to know that I have not purchased anything, then. That is simply the cost for renting that particular chalet for one month.”

“What?” Will manages, genuinely surprised beneath the layers of dour disbelief. “You did - what?”

Hannibal sets his book down, and crosses the room.

“If you ask for it, you will receive it,” He murmurs, mouthing behind Will’s ear, where a small mark on the tanned skin lingers after a particularly rough bite the night before. “Please be careful what you wish for.”


	22. dive deep and dark blue suede

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [So, I have this headcanon that Hannibal is a bath person (and makes a HUGE production out of it - fancy oils, candles, music, et cetera). But, anyway, I'd love to read something where Hannibal is taking one of his nightly baths or whatever, and Will offers to wash his hair and/or body. I just find it interesting how so many stories have Hannibal waiting on Will (as it should be tbf), but I love the idea of Will getting off on caring for Hannibal. Idk, feel free to take what you want from this.](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/136173535989/so-i-have-this-headcanon-that-hannibal-is-a-bath)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES, I completely agree. Hannibal has such a thing for baths, and Will. Hannibal in a bath with Will beside him is the next logical step.

Will likes that he’s been the exception to every rule Hannibal has ever created.

There are the more obvious ones, clear to anyone who has spent more than a few months in Hannibal’s orbit. Will is doted on and stared at reverently, with heart shaped eyes and a gentle knowing smile. Will is alive, because Hannibal likes him that way. Will is kept on a pedestal, and given everything Hannibal has to offer.

But, deeper than that, there are the things that nobody else will ever know. The secret parts of their relationship that aren’t meant for public consumption.

Will has seen the old, wrinkled photos of Mischa that Hannibal has revered since childhood. Will has wandered the halls of the Lecter castle at length, touching the carved stone and family heirlooms that Hannibal grew up detesting. Will has seen through the veil in every way that matters, and a few that don’t.

He is allowed to care for Hannibal, to touch and murmur at and keep safe. Nobody else has been allowed the privilege; nor should they have, Will decides.

Hannibal tilts his head back against the edge of the tub, and closes his eyes as Will sighs and settles on his knees against the tile.

"You’re falling asleep,” Will murmurs, trying to avoid knocking over any of Hannibal’s lit candles or oil bottles. They’re set carefully around the bath’s edge, arranged in a useful yet wholly visual way.

Raising his eyebrows, Hannibal keeps his eyes closed and makes a soft noise in the back of his throat.

“I suppose I am,” He agrees a moment later, sounding tired.

Will leans forward takes one of the folded up, clean facecloths from the small shelf at the end of the tub. He’s sure Hannibal has some kind of exclusive body cleaning only device, but Will’s not interested in that right now.

“That’s okay,” Will replies softly, dipping the facecloth in the water. It smells fancy, like Hannibal has combined a number of things to create the scent.

Honestly Will can’t differentiate between all of the different things Hannibal adds to everything they consume, but he appreciates the time Hannibal takes to do it. He can at least pay back the favor by taking care of him in this way.

They sit in silence, Will dragging the cloth over Hannibal’s body and running more hot water when it gets cold, and Hannibal laying quietly, eyes gently closed and head tipped back.

“I want to wash your hair,” Will says finally, inching forward. He gets his fingers against Hannibal’s scalp just as Hannibal’s eyes blink open.

There’s a moment between them, a string of understanding as they both regard one another from either side of the tub. Will knows that Hannibal only does this for other people - and he’s sure there have been many.

But Will does this for Hannibal.

“If you would like,” Hannibal agrees after another careful pause. He leans forward, shoulders curving away for the porcelain, and waits as Will figures out which bottle is the shampoo.

It’s a surprise to realize Hannibal has been using the same shampoo he’s been using since their stay in this particular accommodation. Up until now Hannibal has used a tiny, amber colored bottle covered in french stickers.

Will’s french is rusty, but after looking at it a couple times, he’d settled on the label saying something to the effect of “fancy and expensive.”

Now, the soap in his hands is familiar smelling. Something deep inside is pleased that Hannibal is going around smelling like him.

“Close your eyes again,” Will requests softly, letting his fingers settle against Hannibal’s scalp.


	23. cooking papa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [here's my prompt for your Luca'verse if you're up for it :D because I was making pumpkin pancakes (& pumpkin will be associated with Luca for a while now for me) and I thought of those competitive cooking shows with children & since Hannibal is such a great chef I'd imagine he'd have taught Luca, so either Luca & Hannibal just cooking something together (for will? ) or him competing in such a show? if he's even allowed to be seen on TV in your universe since he's a Graham-Lecter & all that](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/138596523769/heres-my-prompt-for-your-lucaverse-if-youre-up)

Will frowns, and looks up from where he’s been slicing tomatoes for the last twenty minutes.

“It will not matter how they look,” Hannibal told him, last time the privilege of such a task had been bestowed upon Will. “These tomatoes will only be used to create a base for the sauce.”

Basically, the only things he’s allowed to do could also be done by a caveman with a couple of rocks.

“Now we will place the fish into the pan,” Hannibal says to Luca in french, as Will picks up his wine instead of the knife, and leans heavily against the side of the kitchen island he’s sitting against.

Luca nods, balanced carefully on Hannibal’s hip with a bowl of herbs held tightly to his chest. Hannibal uses a spatula to do something in the pan - Will can’t really see what’s happening in the pan ecosystem from this angle - and then sets it on the counter, to hold the pan by the handle and flip its contents.

When the fish, and the seasoning the fish is cooking in, bounce out of the pan and land back with a pleasing sizzle, Luca cracks up laughing, feet wiggling against Hannibal’s hip.

“Now we can add the herbs,” Hannibal continues, setting the pan down.

He brings Luca around to his front, hands holding the child firmly over the pan, and watches carefully as Luca sprinkles the herbs over their three pieces of fish.

“Very good,” Hannibal appraises, lowering Luca so he can set the now empty bowl on the counter. “And now we will need the tomatoes.”

Oh, shit. Will was so interested in watching Hannibal and Luca’s cooking performance, he totally forgot to resume chopping tomatoes.

“Almost done,” He blurts, wine glass crashing down against the granite counter top as he begins chopping quickly, eyebrows suddenly furrowed in concentration.

Luca walks around the counter, and reaches up to steal a piece of already cut tomato.

“Don’t worry daddy,” He says, patting Will on the knee with his free hand. “Me and papa will cook for you always.”


	24. gymnophoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Gymnophoria & Hannigram? Pretty please ~](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/139349974879/gymnophoria-hannigram-pretty-please)

Will frowns, and grumbles under his breath as he spills coffee ground all over the counter top.

He wanted a Keurig, like every other person in North America. WIth a Keurig, there would be no limit to the coffee flavors he could try: he could even get donut in a cup, if he wanted to. Every day of the week, a different flavor of coffee. The good life, in the greatest sense of the word.

Instead, he’s stuck with approximately three thousand dollars worth of overly complicated coffee equipment. Like Hannibal considers himself a barista or something. If Will wants a fancy coffee, he’ll go to Starbucks and order a latte.

He doesn’t need this shit in his life.

Will is still brushing the $40-a-bag coffee grounds into the sink when he feels the distinct sensation of someone watching him. Slowing his movements, Will’s frown warbles dangerously close to a grin before he manages to temper it back down.

“Morning,” He throws over his shoulder, pretending to be aloof because he knows that Hannibal likes to pretend either of them care about playing games anymore. “How long have you been up for?”

Hannibal settles on the other side of the kitchen island, teasing himself.

“Not long at all,” He murmurs, voice still pitched low with sleep.

Will doesn’t turn around, instead choosing to continue making their coffee. Despite himself, he ends up frowning again as he jams the french press back together.

He isn’t wearing much - just the underwear he pulled on as he was journeying out of bed about fifteen minutes ago - but he feels Hannibal’s gaze raking over the fabric anyways. It makes him shiver, even though the kitchen is plenty warm.

“What are you making for breakfast?” Will asks, half turning around to retrieve two coffee mugs from the island.

Hannibal looks pleased at the demand structured within an innocent question. Will watches as he thinks, considering their options.

Like he didn’t already decide how their day would go.

“After much consideration,” Hannibal murmurs, gaze dropping to the elastic waistband of Will’s underwear, twisted and flipped up against his skin. “I believe you will be the first course.”

Will turns his back again, grinning.

“Ah,” He manages, as the feeling of Hannibal’s gaze settles heavy on him once more. “Imagine that.”


	25. petrichor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Are prompts still being taken? If so... Hannigram + Petrichor ? Pleaseee & thank you ~](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/141877358644/are-prompts-still-being-taken-if-so-hannigram)

Will stands on the back porch in his underwear, watching the dogs race across the newly soaked grass. The five of them are barking and crashing into each other, happy to scrap around with one another in the mud.

Inhaling, Will’s gaze trails along the perimeter of the yard, across trees and fencing and shrubbery. Last night was the first rainfall of the spring season, and its left everything in a warm, sweet smelling haze. Will’s never been a huge fan of spring - the deep dread of winter has always been more his style - but so far this has been a year he can’t complain about.

It’s still early, dark and twilighty above the tree line, but Will likes that just fine. It makes him feel safe, contained. Kept.

Will likes it even more when Hannibal steps out onto the porch behind him, and slides one hand around to palm against his stomach. Hannibal pets him through the thin fabric of his undershirt for no more than a moment before he slips underneath, thumb leading the way for the remainder of his hand.

“This is my favorite smell of the season,” Hannibal murmurs, pressing his nose to the side of Will’s neck. Will exhales and leans back, until Hannibal’s front is pressed against his back. “With you here, it is even better.”

Half of Will’s mouth lifts up into a lazy smirk.

“You’ve wanted to eat me for far less than the way I smell, Hannibal,” Will replies, reaching up to hold the back of Hannibal’s head. With a bit of carefully placed pressure, he gets Hannibal’s mouth back on the side of his throat.

Hannibal kisses the rough, stubbly skin below the lobe of Will’s ear, and murmurs, “There will never come a day where I will not want to consume you in all the ways you allow me to.”


	26. basorexia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Basorexia + Hannigram, please?](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/141878671789/basorexia-hannigram-please)

Before Hannibal, Will never bought the concept of pda.

It was inconceivable to him that you could ache for someone so much, so thoroughly, that you couldn’t wait until you were back in the privacy of your own home to kiss, touch, or stroke them.

Molly understood that piece of him, and she respected it. When Will felt as though he was letting Molly down, he would wrap his arms around her shoulders in line at the grocery store, and rest his chin against the top of her head. His payoff was that she would beam at him for days afterwards, and he would be left alone to the dark thoughts that climbed like vines around the cage inside of his head.

Empathy aside, he never understood her need for public acknowledgement of their relationship. But it clicks together the moment he kisses Hannibal for the first time.

His body is still pumping with adrenaline the moment it happens. Face covered in blood and hands shaking with muscle fatigue, Will presses Hannibal back against the sand they are reborn on, and kisses him wolfishly.

Everything changes with just that one moment, and now - months later - Hannibal still seems surprised when Will pauses to kiss him during the most mundane activities.

Will kisses Hannibal for a thousand reasons. On a base level, Will kisses Hannibal because it feels good. It makes his stomach dip with excitement, and it gets his dick hard. Hannibal is an attractive person, even when Will pauses to take the obsessive way he feels about Hannibal into account.

There is the animal piece of him that crackles like a flare gun. More than anything he wants to consume Hannibal, and the easiest way to do that is with his mouth. He licks Hannibal’s lips and bites his tongue; there is no piece of Hannibal that Will does not want to taste.

And, above all these things, he realizes that he finally understands why Molly loved it when he would touch her in public. It clicks for him the night he kisses Hannibal in the middle of a crowded restaurant because a woman at the bar has been making googly eyes at him all night.

He likes the way staking a public claim in Hannibal makes him feel. He is proud of Hannibal; proud of them, and that pride is what makes the animal piece of his brain flare up when someone else dares to bare their teeth at them.

Will tugs Hannibal to him later that night, standing in the dark by their car. He kisses Hannibal there because he wants to; because there is no longer a moment in his life where he does not want to be bodily connected to Hannibal in some way.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Hannigram and Druxy please ~](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/142556237534/hannigram-and-druxy-please)

druxy

Will’s boots crunch in the icy grass as he makes his way around the side of the house.

He whistles for the three dogs to follow as he starts down the narrow trail that runs along the length of their property. On one side of the trail is perfectly manicured grass; on the other, heavy wood for miles and miles. Will’s breath puffs out in a swirling white cloud as he bounces down the three stone steps that lead to the lower half of their property.

“Hannibal,” He calls, as the dogs take off in front of him, one making a beeline for the shed, and the other two running off onto the grass.

Will follows Harvey’s trail to the shed, because whether Hannibal likes it or not, Harvey would rather stay in his shadow than Will’s.

As he comes around the side of the shed he hears the sound of chopping for the first time: the steady thunk of the axe blade hitting wood, and the rhythmic thumps as both split sides hit the frozen ground.

Hannibal is facing the woods, the muscles in his back strong and lean as he raises the axe up and brings it down again. Will kind of forgets what he was going to ask as he gets distracted with looking at Hannibal’s back, and studying the pieces of wood on the ground.

“What happened to the tree we chopped up last week?” Will asks curiously, before cutting himself off with a, “Harvey no.”

Harvey makes a u-turn away from where he was about to get clunked on the head with a falling piece of wood, but still wags his tail when Hannibal notices him in his peripheral and says, “Hello silly boy.”

“Come,” Will says, unnecessarily, as Harvey starts back towards him.

Hannibal sets the axe down and explains, “I discovered the wood we have been stockpiling has begun to decay. We may be able to salvage some pieces, but most will be too damp to burn.”

“Fuck,” Will swears, sparing a side-long glance to the shed, where most of their winter supply of wood rests. “Why didn’t you tell me? I can help.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Hannibal replies, “It is nothing I can’t get a head start on. Have you finished with your fish?”

“Yeah,” Will nods, wandering over to where Hannibal’s pile of burnable wood is scattered around the chopping block. He turns his head to look at Hannibal as he feels Hannibal’s arm come to rest around his shoulders. “I’ll help you stack it, at least.”

Hannibal’s mouth curls up in a smile, before he sighs and tugs Will in by the neck. Without saying a word, he exhales into the cold air, and presses a soft kiss to the center of Will’s forehead.


	28. you're my Achilles heel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [okay, concept: will punishing hannibal by dragging him through the perfume department at the mall](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/post/143252548614/okay-concept-will-punishing-hannibal-by-dragging)

“You’re not serious, Will,” Hannibal balks, coming to a stop just outside the wide doors of Galeries Lafayette. He has a bag in each hand - it’s October, the perfect time to start Christmas shopping - and a frown on his face.

A few yards ahead, Will pivots around on his heel, one eyebrow arched halfway up his forehead.

“I’m going this way,” He replies, frowning at a woman who gets caught in the crossfire between them. “And if I get to the car first, which I will if you decide to go the long way, I’m leaving without you.”

Hannibal grimaces at him. They’re having one of Will’s colleagues over for dinner, and he can’t afford to get home any later than he’s already planned for.

“I apologized,” Hannibal manages.

Rolling his eyes, Will turns to continue walking through this particular department of the store. Up ahead, he sees a perfect oasis of women dressed in tight black outfits, draped over glass displays with small, expensive bottles of perfume in their hands.

“That looks like it smells good,” Will says in french, coming to a stop in front of a woman toting Burberry. “Spray me with it.”

The woman looks like she thinks he’s joking at first - her lip curls up in amusement - but when she sees the stony, set expression on his face, she stumbles over her reply, “Sir, this is a woman’s fragrance.”

“Spray me,” He intones, knotting his eyebrows in determination.

Cautiously, the woman spritzes him twice underneath the jaw, before taking a step back, the bottle still held out in front of her.

“Thank you,” Will nods, before moving onto the next display.

Five minutes later, Will emerges on the other side with a headache. It’s well worth the sight of Hannibal trailing along behind looking miserable. He manages to make it back out into the marble aisle before he sneezes violently, plastic shopping bag jerking up into the air as he belatedly raises his elbow to sneeze into.

“Don’t invite any more of my colleagues for dinner,” Will says, trying to keep his frown from turning into an amused smile. 

Hannibal rolls his eyes and then sneezes again.

**Author's Note:**

> Have a prompt you'd like to see me write? Send me an ask on [tumblr](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com/ask)!


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